


Verbalize: When Words Are Unspoken

by mansikka



Series: Verbalize [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Accidental Marriage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2018-04-27
Packaged: 2019-04-22 17:40:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14313825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mansikka/pseuds/mansikka
Summary: Dean and Cas are married. But Sam's research reveals the easiest way to become unmarried, is to act like they aren't at all. Some time will need to pass, and then the deed will be undone. Can Dean and Cas avoid each other for long enough to undo all that's happened between them?





	Verbalize: When Words Are Unspoken

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you again to dmsilvis for the art to accompany this, and also to Wayward Mom for beta-ing <3

([dmsilvis](https://dmsilvisart.tumblr.com)) 

* * *

 

"We, uh… gonna talk about it? What happened?" Dean asks, both proud of himself for actually getting the words out of his mouth, and furious that he can't find anything more eloquent to say.

There's heat in Cas' gaze, and Dean would swear there's a crackle in the air around them for just how intense Cas' look is for him. He knows all about Cas' intensity now; Dean doesn't even have to try to recall exactly how Cas felt against him, the ferocity with which they'd come together, and how they'd laid there afterward holding on to one another with the unanswerable question of, _what now_ in the air between them.

He's dragged Cas into the kitchen for some privacy on the pretense of making coffee, so even if they do manage to get some words out it's going to have to be in a loud whisper, since Sam and Jack are only a few feet away. But now they're _married_ ; surely that means it's easier to say what he's thinking. It's not helping that Cas doesn't seem to know what to say either. And Dean's getting desperate; he needs to be _doing_ something. Though what he'd really like to be doing with Cas right now he's got no idea if is equally wanted, so he's telling himself not to get his hopes up. But if Cas would just—

"I won't regret it," Cas tells him, his tone adamant, his chin tilting up in defiance, and Dean's taken by surprise.

"I won't—"

"I know that we didn't tell Sam about what happened between us," Cas continues, a flicker of _something_ across his face as his eyes dart towards the library, that Dean wishes he could interpret. "I know this was not what either of us intended. But I would not have things any other way. Not now."

Dean thinks of Sam's expectant expression, his own bluffing fumble over his own thoughts. How he'd changed the subject, steered them in an entirely different direction away from the list of ways that he and Cas could be _married_ ; Sam wouldn't want the details anyway, and Dean's heart aches at the thought of him _joking_ about that fleeting moment of perfect he shared with Cas.

Neither was it exactly _fleeting_ , either, Dean thinks, lost again in the memory of Cas' skin against his own, they way they'd slotted together as perfect as any one of those shitty novels he insists he's never been caught reading. And the way they'd curled up in each other's arms with only smiles and sated sighs between soft kisses; Dean's never letting anyone belittle _that_. Even if nothing is to come of it, and Cas might just disappear on him any moment now.

"I wouldn't have it any other way either," Dean says, keeping his voice low because it feels like it might crack if he tries anything too loud. And there's Sam and Jack in the other room, he reminds himself, finally turning to the coffee machine.

"Hey, if you've not started making coffee, I was thinking of heading out," Sam announces as he comes into the kitchen. His sudden appearance makes Dean jolt so hard away from Cas, despite not even being that close to him, that he bumps hard into a counter, striking an exact spot where Cas sucked in a bruise just a few hours ago.

Dean only catches Cas' gaze for a second but sees the hurt on his face immediately. He wants to wrap him up in his arms for it, drag him down the hallway to his bedroom and kiss the look right off him; as well as do other things.

"Oh yeah?" Dean says to Sam anyway. "Where?"

"Jack wants to go for a drive," Sam says, and Jack steps up behind him nodding eagerly.

"Sam said there is a cafe exactly fourteen miles from the bunker that has fifty-seven five star reviews for their ice cream," Jack says with an excited smile on his face that Dean can't help but soften a little for, despite this chaos with Cas.

"That so?"

"Yes," Jack enthuses, "and if we leave now, we can have ice cream for lunch."

Sam makes eye contact, smiles, nods to suggest they all go. Dean thinks about not, about handing over his keys and taking himself back to bed to hide. But his sheets will still smell of Cas, and that's not going to do anything that helps clear his head, so he nods, puts the coffee pot back in its holder, and checks his pockets.

"I'll get my keys."

* * *

It's been a week now, and to Dean's disappointment in them both, they haven't found time to talk things over at all. There has even been a look passing between them that says _it's better this way_ when it's anything but. How is he supposed to just _forget_ the thing he's wanted so much for so long, that now he's had a taste it feels like something's been gouged out of his life for knowing he's never going to have it again?

Dean keeps catching himself daydreaming, fantasizing about a _life_ with Cas; as much of a life as one spent hunting can give them anyway. And on some days he even thinks _beyond_ that; to him and Cas in a little fixer-upper in the middle of nowhere with no monsters around, the only things they have to worry about being whose turn it is to take out the trash, and if they've got enough food in so they can stay tucked up together one more day without having to leave the house.

Cas is quiet. Dean knows this without even speaking to him, and that's possibly the worst thing about this of all; they're not even talking like they used to do before all this happened. Dean misses him, badly, even if it is easier to avoid Cas for the reminder of just how good they are together as friends or otherwise. Though he's envious when he hears Cas talking to Jack, and outright jealous for the same thing with Sam, despite being the one that keeps avoiding going into rooms when Cas is around. How does he know Cas _wouldn't_ talk to him if he gave him the chance?

Maybe Cas is thinking of leaving again. The thought of it hits Dean hard enough to make him feel sick. Cas hasn't been _back_ long, but Dean's already got used to having him around more often than he isn't, and the thought of him being _out there_  doing all the things Cas does when he's not with them terrifies him. What if he's hurt? What if he needs help, but won't call anymore because of what's happened between them? What if he doesn't come back?

It's a shower that breaks Dean from his maudlin musings, drying off after the heat of it and feeling the cold rush in to dimple his skin. He catches sight of the ring on his finger that he's been studying every minute he's not had company so knows every fleck of it, sees instantly something is wrong.

The ring is beginning to fade.

His heart leaps hard in his chest, and Dean's breath punches out of him in a surprised gasp. He raises his hand to inspect it, turning it over, and over again, increasingly alarmed for the confirmation that the ring really is fading. And with his heart hammering away Dean dresses in a hurry, cursing at his jeans when he gets tangled in them in his haste.

He charges through the bunker seeking Cas out, finding him sat by himself in the library staring off into the distance, his left hand splayed flat against the table.

"Cas," Dean chokes out as he comes closer, eyes drawn to the ring on his finger even as he lifts up his hand.

"I suppose this means we will not be officially married for much longer. It has faded quite significantly in the past hour. I have been… watching it," Cas adds, his voice monotone, his expression neutral as he lowers his hand again.

Cas isn't interested in him, Dean realizes. Cas will be glad when this is over. Cas _wants_ the damn rings to fade, so he'll be free of him.

Dean doesn't trust himself not to lash out with unkind words, or his tears not to make an embarrassing appearance at the worst possible time. He stares at Cas' bowed head for another few seconds, then charges his way through the bunker to his room, slamming the door behind him and throwing himself on to the bed where he stares up at the ceiling ignoring those tears as they fall.

* * *

"It appears there were further conditions placed on couples who were wed with this particular spell."

Dean looks over at Sam seconds after he's sunk down into his chair, taking a gulp of beer before he speaks to push back the unkinder retort he doesn't want to let out. "Oh yeah? Like what?"

"Well," Sam says, jotting something down on a pad of paper and frowning at all the other scraps in front of him before turning to the book by his side, and tapping over the page. "Along with all the romantic stuff— affection, gestures, things like that—the couple is supposed to be truthful to one another."

"Like… share everything they're thinking, and all that?" Dean asks, knowing that's absolutely something he and Cas haven't done. _He_ hasn't done; Dean amends, chiding himself; what right does he have to think he knows what Cas is thinking about anything?

"Well, yeah," Sam says, lifting his head up to smile at him. "Isn't that kind of the whole point of getting married? Being with the one person you want to share everything with for the rest of your life?"

"Wouldn't know," Dean scoffs, because it's easier than admitting just how hurt he feels for never having experienced that.

"It says here," Sam says with a suspicious eyebrow raise for him, "that the key to the spell working is honesty with one another. Underwriting all those gestures and getting to know one another properly, it says here that the key to a successful _union_ is not to lie."

"Makes sense," Dean says, nodding as he takes a longer pull on his beer. "What's the point in living a lie anyway? Too much hard work."

"It's not just lying to the other person though, I don't think," Sam says with a frown, tapping at the page again then going back to his notes.

"Huh?"

"Well," Sam sighs, sitting back a little and pushing his hair from his face, then reaching out for the beer Dean's uncapped for him. "It's also about being honest with yourself."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning. If you're not admitting that… I don't know, Dean; I'm only going by the notes Cas and Jack made, trying to piece things together with what I can interpret. But if you're not admitting things like… I guess if it's a new marriage—no, that sounds dumb; _all_ marriages are new at some point, aren't they? But if it's a new _relationship_ , being scared of what that means—what it _might_ mean. Being unsure of what the future might look like; even not saying out loud how you feel about each other, I guess; I guess it means _that_ kind of honesty."

"Isn't the whole point of the spell to make you feel things about each other?" Dean counters, though he knows that isn't true, and that's it's only half the story, so sits back a little further from Sam in case he can hear how frantic his heart is beating.

"The initial thing is only to produce feelings of affection to keep them together. After that, it's all on the couple to work out if they're gonna work or not."

"But—"

"I guess the point is, if one of the people in the marriage is more invested than the other—or even if one of them just _thinks_ that—maybe they don't wanna admit how they're feeling in case they hear something they don't wanna hear, in case it _isn't_ reciprocated. So, they keep those feelings to themselves; maybe they didn't expect to grow to like the person they've been forced to be with, or—I don't know, Dean," Sam laughs. "You're the married guy around here; you figure it out."

"Looks like me and Cas ain't doing any of that talking," Dean says, raising his hand, pretending not to flinch at just how much harder the ring is to see now.

"Exactly."

"Huh?"

"So," Sam says, wriggling in his seat to get comfortable, "say you're not saying out loud about how you really feel about _Cas_. And Cas is—or isn't—doing the same thing with you. You're not being honest with each other; seems a pretty big deal according to this text. It should be, though, shouldn't it? Honesty, when you're married?"

Dean thinks about it, and hates it. He hates it a whole lot.

"Anyway," Sam says, clearing his throat as though he's been caught out, rapidly shuffling all the papers in front of him into a haphazard pile. "Point is, you're doing it right."

"Excuse me?" Dean asks, incredulous, having no clue what Sam's going on about now.

"The not talking thing," Sam smiles. "I mean, I know it's gonna be weird for you right now. He's been back five seconds, you two are _always_ talking when he's here—and when he's not—so I know it's gotta be hard purposely avoiding each other like you're doing to get rid of this spell thing."

Dean feels sick, so sick that the mouthful of beer he's just swallowed hits his stomach like a rain of acid, and he's not sure if he's not going to throw up right now. "I guess."

"It'll be worth it when you're done though," Sam smiles in encouragement as he stands, snatching up his beer bottle before he turns away. "Then you can go back to how you used to be around each other without it being weird."

"Yeah. 'Course," Dean agrees with the quickest flashes of smiles that makes his face feel like it's cracking.

"It won't be long now," Sam adds, reaching out and squeezing his shoulder in reassurance before walking away, leaving Dean staring after him and cursing that this is what has become of his life.

* * *

"Are you unwell?"

Dean looks up to find Jack staring down at him in concern, head tilted at the exact angle as the person he's trying his damnedest not to think about, and sending the fork in his hand clattering to his plate in the process.

"Why'd you ask?" he says, nodding and waving to the chair opposite when Jack gestures at it.

"Because," Jack replies as he sits, nodding towards Dean's half-eaten plate. "Sam told me, that if I ever saw you not finish a meal, then I should be worried, because it probably meant that you were sick."

Dean looks at the sandwich he's taken two bites out of, the pile of chips he's not even touched, and pushes the plate away with a grimace. "I guess so."

"Is there anything you need?" Jack asks in even more concern, leaning forward and staring at him—just like Cas.

"No," Dean smiles, biting back cruel retorts not even meant for Jack. "No, it's fine. Just not got much of an appetite today, is all."

"I see," Jack nods solemnly, as though that has told him _everything_. Dean doesn't like it, so makes a fuss of pushing the plate to one side and draining the tepid coffee in his mug.

"So, Jack," he smiles, "what've you been doing all morning?"

"Cas and I were talking about the universe."

Of course they were, Dean thinks, that's exactly the kind of thing he imagines they'd talk about. "Right."

"About our place in the universe, and how every part of it is essential to the whole," Jack continues, leaning forward enthusiastically. "Cas' knowledge appears… infinite."

"Yeah, well," Dean huffs to himself, absently playing with his fingers now steepled together for something to do with them. "He's been around a while."

"He has," Jack agrees in awe, and there's pride there curving up his lip. "He is an excellent role model. Teacher, guide, _father_ —"

"Yeah," Dean says, having to cut him off for the ache even just Cas' name is putting in his heart. "Cas is all kinds of awesome."

"And yet he is the first to admit that there is still so much that he doesn't know. Or understand," Jack adds, the awe seeming to overwhelm him a little, as though he can't believe his luck for having Cas in his life.

Dean feels the same, only he can't ever find the right words to say that out loud.

"Yeah," Dean huffs, having to look away. The similarities between Jack and Cas are freaky at times, and today is not the day for noticing. It's too much of a punch in the gut for the similarities suggesting Cas really _could_ be Jack's father.

"For example," Jack says, shifting in that way he does when he's warming to his subject. "Cas told me that he still feels utterly helpless when it comes to determining, or understanding, _emotions_."

Dean swallows, not liking where this is going. "Oh?"

"Yes," Jack smiles, and it's a bemused one. "Cas tells me that when it comes to things like _love_ , and _companionship_ , he feels utterly clueless."

"Yeah, well," Dean scoffs, "none of us are any good at that. No one round here, anyway."

"It's so strange," Jack says, shaking his head and smiling with even more bewilderment. "It's so apparent that Cas _does_ love, and _does_ seek companionship, and that he has both here—with _you_ —that it surprises me he would even need to feel confusion about it."

Dean's words get stuck. He stares back at Jack wide-eyed, having no clue how he's supposed to respond.

"But," Jack sighs, that smile dropping a little, and even a tiny frown forming—just like Cas' frown. "If _you_ also seek love, and companionship, and you have it with Cas, yet can't comprehend it, or even recognize it, then I suppose it is not so strange that Cas would not be certain of his own thoughts. He only has you for guidance since his only experiences with human emotion are those he has experienced since meeting _you_ ; I suppose it's no wonder that he feels confused at all."

Dean thinks there might be accusation mixed in there with understanding, but Jack's words have again confuddled him, and there's not a shred of maliciousness on his face, so he doesn't say anything back.

"Anyway," Jack says, standing and gesturing at Dean's plate. He nods, expecting him to finish the sandwich, or something. "I will cover this with food wrap in case your appetite returns later. Just like you showed me."

Dean nods, watching as Jack walks away to the kitchen, a thousand questions forming that he doesn't know how to ask.

* * *

Dean's halfway through washing the Impala when he notices it, the thing that's missing invisible behind the suds on his hands from cleaning his car. There's a smear on her hood that gets abandoned as the cloth he's holding drops to the ground and he holds his hand up in alarm, prodding at his ring finger now lacking any trace of a ring on it.

Dean charges into the bunker with his heart pounding up against his throat. He finds Cas in the library sat watching something with Sam, though the look on his face says he's not taking in a single thing that's happening on the screen appearing far too startled.

"Cas," Dean says, grabbing Cas by the sleeve and tugging hard enough for him to stumble to his feet, desperate to get him alone. "Cas; we gotta talk."

"The ring has gone," Cas says faintly once they're in Dean's room, holding up his hand for Dean to see. "I noticed just a few minutes ago when Sam went to get us beer. I wanted to find you, but—"

"Mine too," Dean replies, holding up his own hand, and watching as Cas reaches out to pinch over where his ring used to be.

"We are… incompatible," Cas says then, and his words come out flat, like he's disappointed.

"No," Dean says, his heart racing even harder than when he'd charged into the room, "no; it doesn't mean that at all. It just means we're not—we're not _talking_ about this right."

"Dean," Cas says, with pleading in his eyes, "how else can we talk about this? Every time we try, nothing ever changes. Nothing I ever say to you ever comes out as I intended."

They have tried, Dean supposes, at least, they've done _their_ version of trying. A few blurted out words not saying half the things they mean, and uncomfortable silences that are far too loud.

"Me neither, Cas," Dean says, softer as he steps a little closer, though how that's possible, he doesn't really know. If he reaches out now, he can hook an elbow over his shoulder, which means he can drape his other hand around the back of Cas' neck, and that means—

Dean doesn't think, not too much anyway. His hands are grabbing Cas' face and pulling him towards him, and then he's kissing Cas hard, and desperate. And he's not going to even _think_ anything as sappy as how right it feels to be kissing Cas again, even if it does feel a lot like he might be coming home; especially as Cas' arms wrap around him pulling them tighter together.

They break apart, stare at each other for several long seconds, and then they're flying at one another again. There's teeth, tongue, fingers digging in a little too hard, but it feels _right_ to be together like this, however ungainly it might be.

When Dean pulls back this time, he looks, _really_ looks at Cas, and for the first time in just about forever, he doesn't _care_ anymore about how his words come out.

"Love you, Cas."

Cas' eyes grow wide in alarm and he becomes so rigid on the spot, Dean's sure one shove might topple him. Though his fingers are twitching down by his side, and Dean wonders if he's debating with himself about reaching out to touch.

"I _love_ you, Cas," he repeats, even if the words come out trembling, and his heart's doing its usual Cas-related thing of threatening to burst from his chest.

"Dean. I love you."

"I think I fell in love with you about forever ago," Dean adds as he shuffles closer, not realizing how big a step he'd taken back.

"I sometimes think that I fell in love with you long before I realized I loved you," Cas says, hesitance in his voice as his own words seem to loosen themselves unchecked from his tongue. "On other occasions, I am certain I can recall the very second I knew that I did."

"I hate it when we argue," Dean says, his fingers trembling as he lifts them up, and he doesn't exactly _hold_ Cas, more like presses his hands against his sides to make sure he's really there. That he's not going anywhere.

"As do I."

"And I don't mean to be so snarky with you all the time either," Dean adds. "I don't—I get angry when things are out of my control. Like, if you're disappearing off and not telling me when you need help—"

"I only do that when I have to, Dean. When I must—"

"You _don't_ , Cas," Dean protests, curling his fingers around his waist, "you don't do that at all. You go, because you feel like you gotta _win_ something. Or you gotta—when you _forget_ that we're your family, Cas, that we _love_ you. Think that it don't matter what happens to you to us, 'cos we don't care. But we _do_ , Cas. We'd be— _I_ would be lost without you. I _am_ lost without you. You should see what a mess I am when you're gone."

"I am also a _mess_ when I am not with you," Cas admits, reaching out himself to wrap his arms around Dean's waist, bringing their chests flush together. "I have never felt that I belong anywhere aside from this bunker. I have never had anyone who I miss, so much, that I cannot concentrate on anything else unless I force myself, or attempt to block them out. Which never works with you."

"'Cos I'm too chatty?" Dean laughs, even that coming out shakily.

"Because you are too important to me to keep from my thoughts for longer than a very short period. Because you are the only person with which I don't _have_ to pretend. Even if on multiple occasions, I do."

"I _love_ you, Cas," Dean says, swallowing to clear the lump from his throat. "I don't wanna… I don't want you to have to pretend with me, about anything. Hell, it'll be kinda nice not having to pretend around you either."

"It will be a relief to be able to look at you and say what I am feeling, instead of constantly holding back," Cas admits, and there, Dean thinks with his stomach fluttering, right there; that's the beginnings of a smile.

"I don't wanna not be married to you, Cas," Dean blurts out then, watching Cas' eyes grow even more startled. "I mean, I'm not saying I wanted any of this to happen like _this_ , but—"

"I don't want to be not married to you either, Dean," Cas says softly, and they're staring at each other again like they've done so many times, done for _years_.

Dean feels his face begin to ache from how hard he's smiling. He pulls back just enough to shove at Cas' trenchcoat telling him he wants it off, and then he's taking his hand, pulling him towards the bed, holding on as Cas kicks off his boots, then guiding him to lay down. Pulling him straight into a kiss that he intends to last for hours.

* * *

"Alright, Jack," Dean says, breathless as he and Cas rush through the bunker after searching the room they'd been married in for the book, "where is it?"

“Where’s what?” Jack says, sounding distracted.

“The book.”

“What book?”

“Dammit, Jack,” Dean snarls out, then curses himself for it, and immediately reaches out to grip him around the shoulder. “Sorry. We’re looking for that book you, uh, married us with.”

Jack looks up from the sandwich he's eating in surprise. "I haven't seen it. Why do you—"

"Do you know where it was last?" Dean pleads; they can't be this close to having something this good between them only for it to be snatched from under their feet.

"I think—"

"It's here," Sam says as he enters the library, walking straight over to a shelf and pulling the book down.

Dean's knees go weak with relief, his heart giving one hard thud as Cas walks up to Sam and snatches it from his hand, turning the pages with an urgency Dean echoes.

"This one," Cas says, holding the book out for Dean and tapping on the page, "it was this one."

"Jack," Dean says, spinning on his heel, sliding Jack's plate away from him with such force that the chips on the side of it spill in an arch over the table, slamming the book down in front of him in its place. "Jack; gonna need you to work your magic again."

"I… don't know any magic," Jack says slowly, turning up to look at him with a confused frown.

"I don't mean, _actual_ magic," Dean says, telling his words not to come to come out as impatient.

"But it is a spell," Jack adds, his expression clearing and a smile spreading across his face. "Technically speaking, I _am_ performing magic."

"What're you asking him to do?" Sam asks, coming to stand closer. Dean turns and shoves him away with an apologetic look on his face; he can't risk the spell marrying _them_ by accident, he thinks, shuddering at the thought, then wondering if Sam can stand just a little further back to witness this thing, so they're all involved.

"Sorry, Sammy—"

"Cas," Jack says, sounding worried, "you told me to never read from this book again."

"I know," Cas agrees, his own face showing the strain that Dean is feeling to keep calm. "I was wrong."

"But—"

"Jack," Dean interrupts, the word coming out sharp, and making himself pause for a second to make sure the ones that follow don't do the same.

"Yes, Dean?"

"Jack. I'm gonna need you to marry us again."

* * *

 

 


End file.
